


touch me, touch me, don't be shy

by r1ker



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: College AU, M/M, twitter squad at it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 21:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10200317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r1ker/pseuds/r1ker





	

The first time they meet, it's not exactly under the best of circumstances. For one, the assigned room they're going to share is a mess, littered with boxes and rolled-up mattress toppers, and both of them get pushed aside in the melee caused by helpers and parents. Gaston manages to break free of the chaos and pulls his new roommate aside, who looks only the slightest bit scared shitless.

 

There are tears in his eyes at the sight of his mother steady unpacking boxes and stringing up curtains, the realization that he'll soon be left to his own devices with a complete stranger setting in fast. "She picked out those curtains," LeFou says to Gaston like an idiot. He can't think of a thing to say in a situation like this. He didn't even want to come here anyway – that community college back home was sure looking plush but didn't stand a chance to this place when they offered him 40 grand in scholarships. Money over mind and matter, he supposed.

 

"They're nice," Gaston supplies with an attitude that implies that he's up for any discussion of interior decorating as it applies to cinderblock walls and yellowed windows. He didn't come here with much; most of the junk was packed at the behest of LeFou's frenzied parents, dumbstruck with the idea of leaving their only child at college with nothing less than every single one of his amenities at home. A hand on LeFou's shoulder he steps past him just enough to grab for the roll of posters and box of thumbtacks on the edge of his mattress.

 

Soon the half of the room practically now a shrine to LeFou's interests – archaic movie posters strung up with precision, accolades from high school tacked onto the wall above his bed, and a little something to remind his mother that once it wasn't all this far away from the past, a small quilt tucked away in a shadowbox, imprinted with tow trucks and woven in pale blue yarn.

 

"We're gonna go now, baby doll," his mother says to him as she stands in the doorway. The two embrace, mother holding son equally as tight, and soon it's the efforts of LeFou's father that get the two to part long enough to finally say goodbye. A wave to Gaston and they're out the door, pulling the door shut quietly behind them. When the latch finally clicks closed LeFou frowns deep and sits back on the edge of his made-up bed.

 

Gaston can see the hurt in his face but he's not too familiar with his roommate to make a move to comfort him. However, he does go underneath his bed and plunders for something he can only hope will rectify the situation. The little red tin is there in all its glory and to his relief he'd managed to pack a few more away before he set off to school. He undoes the top latch and holds the box facing LeFou.

 

"Want an animal cracker?" LeFou laughs at him, a teary little sound. To Gaston's satisfaction LeFou grabs hold of an elephant and tips his head forward in thanks. "If it helps any, Labor Day's only three weeks away. If you play your cards right you can skip class that Friday and go home, have yourself a four-day weekend before you have to get back to it."

 

Blinking away the last few tears in his eyes LeFou nods. With the hand not holding the animal cracker he brushes away the tear streaks on his face and says, "It's a three-hour drive back home. I'm starting to think this was a bad decision." Gaston shakes his head and leaves the open tin of cookies on LeFou's bed for the both of them to partake in. "The longest I've ever been away from the both of them was a week."

 

Both of Gaston's parents hadn't yet had the pleasure to have him out of their hair for longer than a few days, when he'd stow away at friends' houses and hope to God his father's benders came to ends earlier than their predicted fortnights. So he tries to understand it as best as he can, being away from someone you love (he thinks back to days at his grandmother's, hysterical when she left the same room he was in, and hopes it can parallel a little to LeFou's situation). "They'll still be there when you get back. You take home a little bit more seriously when you're away from it, yeah?" LeFou nods.

 

The two of them set off to their sides of the room and reconvene cross-legged on the rug in the center with folders tucked under their elbows. It's papers for formal rush, joining the fraternities of their great-great-great grandfathers through a week's worth of situational hell, and they swap each other's applications to check for any errors. Gaston can see LeFou has the same house in mind as him and hopes that when it comes to recruitment, there won't be anymore splitting up going on.

 

As it so happens, there isn't. In the preliminary groups they're placed in to tour the thirteen fraternity houses lining the outskirts of the campus they end up in the same one. Escorted around by a less-than-excited fraternity elder LeFou thinks for a second he can make this whole college thing work. Lots of boys come up to him, eager to shake his hand and make a good impression should that be the hand of their pledge brother one day. Gaston doesn't hesitate to make his moves on a few that begin to follow him not unlike puppies.

 

The end of the week arrives and some of those friends have been lost to the expected cuts. Rumor has it a few were skipping class, getting drunk, the like of which made them lose their spot almost by default. The ones that have survived are standing beside Gaston and LeFou on bid day, when they're handed white envelopes with perfect porcelain smiles behind them. Gaston mouths, _one, two, three,_ and they open their envelopes at the same time.

 

When they place their cards out to show the other it's with a noise of triumph they both learn they've been assigned to the same house. LeFou's mainly happy it won't upset his father that he didn't not get into the house where he's a fourth-generation legacy. Both of them set off to the house for the almost-victory party the elder members and young pledges are partaking in to celebrate another successful week of brotherhood.

 

It's a big affair, alumni from years past and even some parents pitching in to help the young men celebrate what they've always believed to be the most momentous occasion of their scholarly lives. Gaston goes for the booze head-on and secures two beers before the other boys swarm on the table. The two head for a more secluded corner of the bustling conference hall where the party's being held. They can barely hear each other over the din of conversation and the heart-stopping music that seems to be surpassing even the capacities of the most quality stereo.

 

A few times in the night the music changes, from heavily remixed songs to ones the two of them have a bit more affinity for. Once a pledge from a sorority with a name that makes LeFou laugh with the SNL reference he heard it from drags Gaston to the dance floor. He looks over his shoulder at LeFou and in all his inebriated fervor joins the girl for one song before he's back at LeFou's side. Their calm is again disturbed a few minutes later, when a shove and a noise of surprise send a splash of Natural Light down the front of LeFou's shirt.

 

"Oh, shit, man, I'm sorry," a very clearly wasted pledge brother of his apologizes, shouldering his way past Gaston and LeFou in search of another drink to replace the one lost to LeFou's bid day jersey. With a handful of napkins LeFou tries to wipe away most of what's marbling down the embossed letters across the expanse of his chest. He can feel tears of anger bubbling up – he had wanted to save it for a time where he could look back and enjoy this, but now it's looking like the cheap beer has had its way with its stitching and integrity.

 

Gaston can see him getting increasingly upset and leans down close to put his mouth to LeFou's ear, so that his message isn't lost to the raucousness of the party. "Come to the bathroom and I'll help you clean off." LeFou nods and takes Gaston's lead, their hands ending up together along the way. A few bystanders take notice of the wide stain across a most treasured artifact of Greek life and make their comments, hushed snickers, _if he can't handle his alcohol, who knows if he'll make it through pledge ship?_

In the bathroom Gaston helps LeFou sit on an old radiator and grabs a wad of towels from the dispenser above the sink. Running them under the tap to get the paper wrapped around his fingers wet he turns back to find LeFou at a loss for words. "Relax. Your bid day jersey ends up shoved to the back of your closet anyway." He begins to rub away what he can of the dried beer and finds it's tougher than he expected to get it to not look as obvious, as the cheap paper towels begin to ball up on the stain, making it increasingly notable.

 

"If push comes to shove, we can take that hoard of Tide pens your mom sent with you and go to town on it, or you can just borrow mine," Gaston says, working away at LeFou's shirt for a few seconds more before deeming the cause worthless. LeFou looks up at him and begins to draw the jersey from over his head, revealing the white undershirt beneath. The beer has seeped through and done the same to the second layer of clothing so LeFou does away with it as well.

 

One bare-chested, the other stunned given the fact that they never went to the communal showers together, LeFou's face gives way to suppressed laughter, forgoing the frustration in favor of humor in the frivolity. "I had wanted you to see me shirtless after I had done away with the freshman 15." Gaston can't laugh at the joke for it goes to the core of one of his favorite things about LeFou. He'd seen the way his roommate had dressed in the first few weeks of school, dapper button down shirts tucked into pressed slacks, short and chubby and perfect. There had been a part of him that wanted to say something, perhaps give a passing complement, but he didn't trust himself to keep it entirely civil. But tonight, the both of them perhaps a little bit gone, Gaston gives in and puts his hand on the part of LeFou's chest where it depresses just above his heart.

 

"If you say anything about how I need to shave my chest, I'll kill you," LeFou gets out before one of Gaston's legs go between his spread knees, to center him as they kiss. It's an affair lacking reciprocity at first, clumsy hands around the metal folds of the radiator they're leaning against. LeFou isn't prepared for the way Gaston's hands move and begin to wander all over him, over freckled shoulders and down strong arms.

 

When they pull apart LeFou chases after him as they end up back to front against the wall across from the sink. He's oriented towards leveling the playing field, hands working below Gaston's eager ones urging him on. Gaston pulls back to take in a breath and LeFou, again, pursues him. "I'm not going to fuck you in the bathroom of our frat house," he whispers, voices outside the bathroom door growing louder and louder as more boys approach the lavatory. "But I'll push together the twin beds." Gaston wheezes a small laugh and they recollect themselves, shoving past a group of guys heading in right behind them.


End file.
